If We Burn
by nmi.greenfield
Summary: In which Seneca Crane hesitates a second too long in making that fatal decision.


_Katniss_

I hadn't expected this. I really thought that I would get to have him _and_ my family. But it's too late now. I love him, and I've made my decision. He's watching my hands tremble as I open the bag and pour the berries into my palm.

"Are you sure?" he questions, his eyes flickering up to mine for a second.

"Absolutely." I tell him, and his eyes widen. "I'm not going anywhere without you." I hold the berries out and tip some into his palm. He swallows.

"Okay." He grips my hand and turns so his back is pressed to mine. "We're doing this."

I lift my chin and hold the berries at eye level. "On three?"

"One." He begins, his whisper impossibly loud. "I love you, Katniss."

"Two." I respond, the word fading into silence. "I love you, Peeta."

"Three." We speak the last word together, and I tip the nightlock into my mouth and swallow. The world spins as a rush of darkness claims my mind.

 _Gale_

All of District 12 is assembled in the square, watching our tributes huddle together in the pretense that their conversation is private. They are whispering, but the words ring out as clearly as if they were shouting. When Katniss offers him some of the berries in her hand, Prim whimpers and grips my hand tighter.

"Gale, what is she doing? She promised!"

"I know, little duck, but she loves him. People do crazy, desperate things when they're in love."

On screen, Peeta has begun the countdown. Prim begins to wail as Katniss continues to count, and the wail rises into a scream as her sister crumples to the ground. Her cry fades into silence as two cannons fire, the sound rolling over the quiet square like thunder.

As one, with the notable exception of Peeta's mother, District 12 lifts our hands to our mouths and raises the screen a three fingered salute.

His voice shaking, Claudius Templesmith announces, "Good people, it brings me great sorrow to announce that for the first time in seventy-four years, we have no Victor. My condolences to the tribute's families, and especially to the families of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

A trilled warning call rings from the screen, and a hovercraft comes into view, the claws reaching down to bring the bodies up together.

They send them home in one coffin, wearing the outfits from their interviews. The service is open casket so the Capitol cameras can see them. Katniss looks peaceful, her hand looped through his between them. Prim is crying freely as we approach, and she pauses to place the bouquet she holds under Katniss' free hand, which has been draped loosely over her heart. The symbolism of the flowers is not lost on anyone, because Katniss now holds katniss flowers, evening primrose, and a sprig of nightlock. My mining crew and Peeta's older brothers step forward to be the pallbearers. The grave is at the top of the small hill reserved for Victors, and a surprisingly sober Haymitch steps up to read the obituary and place the first shovelful of dirt over the coffin. Prim is next, and Mrs. Everdeen follows. Peeta's family is next, and Rye, the younger of the remaining brothers, claps me on the shoulder when I step up. Nobody speaks until we are out of the graveyard, when Rye taps my shoulder and whispers, "I'm sorry."

When I raise my eyebrows, he explains. "I could have volunteered for him. Then Katniss would be alive and they could be together."

I shook my head. "There wasn't anything you could have done, Rye. She wouldn't have made it past the wildfire if Peeta hadn't been in the arena with her. The Capitolites wanted their show too badly for that."

"It still hurts, man." I press my hands to his shoulders and grimace.

"Yeah, it does. It's gonna hurt for a really long time. But it hurts less if you let go of the what-ifs."

 _One Year Later_

The Quarter Quell this year took tributes only from the pool of 18 year olds, and whispers of rebellion and District 13 ride the wind. The Victor was from 2, as always, and the celebration in the Capitol is the mandatory viewing almost every day.

I hiked up to the grave today, and unsurprisingly, Haymitch was there. He hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since last year's Games. He gave me a crisp nod and walked away, his boots scuffing against the gravel. I knelt down into the grass, placing the bundle of nightlock branches I'd brought onto the ground at the bottom of the headstone.

Here Lies Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen

The Almost Victors of the 74th Hunger Games

"She came here with me." "I swore I would."

The quote they took for Katniss is out of context, but Prim assured me she doesn't mind. She thinks it's rather romantic. I bring Madge the next year, even though I was concerned she wouldn't make it up the hill. She'd waved me off, declaring "I'm pregnant, not crippled, Gale. Stop worrying."

I set the strawberry blooms we'd brought on the grave, and told Katniss and Peeta that Snow was dead, we had a new president, and the Games were done forever.


End file.
